Nakama
by 0Black0Rabbit0
Summary: When the Amanto attacked, the samurai fought back. They fought for their country, their name, and their Yakult. However, only four of them went down in history. A collection of one-shots featuring the Joui four. Make sure the room is well lit and you're not too close to the screen!
1. Chapter 1

**People Who Laugh Too Much Are Secretly Ninjas**

 **-0-**

"Zura, he's at it again...How much Yakult did you give him?"

"Tch. Shut it, perm-head. How about I test out this new sword on you?"

"What? That little thing? You've seen how long mine is, right?"

Katsura emerged from the base, stepping out into the sunlight only to be greeted by the familiar sight of Takasugi and Gintoki...bonding. The two samurai were pointing their swords at each other, eyes narrowed. It wasn't anything new. Actually, this was around about the time of day that it happened; when the sun was at it's highest, and the two samurai were extremely hot and irritated.

Katsura simply blinked at the two, knowing that interfering would most likely get him killed. Sakamoto, long ago, had done this. Considering what Sakamoto was like now, it explained quite a lot. Instead, the long-haired male sighed and shook his head, disappointed.

"I still don't know how you two are alive." He commented.

"Ma ma, Zura. Don't be so harsh," Gintoki replied, continuing to stare directly at Takasugi with a pair of half lidded, uninterested eyes. "Little boys like Takasugi are particularly sensitive at his age." He tilted his head to one side, sighing. "Ah, I remember when I was a young boy starting puberty..."

Takasugi threw a scowl in Gintoki's direction. "Tsk. How absurd. At least I wasn't born with my finger up my nose."

"Oi oi, don't go tossing around words you don't understand. That word's a bit too big for you, isn't it?"

Takasugi took an abrupt step forwards and pointed his katana closer to Gintoki, specifically his neck. Gintoki responded by narrowing his eyes and mimicking his actions, allowing his own weapon to advance towards the shorter samurai.

Katsura narrowed his eyes.

"What are you two fighting about this time?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow at the two.

Takasugi furrowed his eyebrows. "The curly-haired bastard stole my Yakult." he growled, glaring at Gintoki with a pair of piercing, unforgivable green eyes.

"Didn't your mother tell you it's not good to tell tales, little boy?" The silver-haired samurai retorted. "Well, it can't be helped...It's the naughty step for you tonight, Takasugi."

"Naughty step my ass!"

"Oi, I'm letting you off lightly, midget. Seeing as you stole my secret chocolate stash."

Takasugi bared his teeth a little. "Why would I want to steal that sugar death wish?"

"Why would I want to steal a drink that tastes like Amanto crap?"

Katsura sighed. He turned, deciding to leave the two to just get on with it, and disappeared back inside.

 **-0-**

"Ah, Zura. You look tired. Busy day?"

Katsura seated himself on the roof next to Sakamoto. "It's not Zura, is's Katsura," He corrected, before taking the time to look up at the night sky, enjoying a moment of silence. "Hm. Most of the wounds have been tended to." He murmured in reply to Tatsuma, allowing his hands to hide under his sleeves to escape the cold.

Sakamoto looked sideways, blinking at Katsura with what could be described as admiration. "You sound like quite the doctor." He commented.

The black-haired samurai shook his head. "A true doctor would be able to fix Gintoki and Takasugi," He muttered in response. "I know a few basics, but nothing that could make those two better."

"A ha ha ha, ha!" Sakamoto laughed his annoying laugh, before he picked something from the roof next to him. Katsura looked up at him and watched as he took the liberty of opening a bottle of Yakult. "What were they fighting about today then?" He asked, before taking a few gulps.

Katsura stared at the samurai, wide-eyed. He did this for a while before Sakamoto actually noticed what he was doing. He raised an eyebrow at his friend before a look of realization crawled across his face.

"Ah, my apologies, Zura. I forgot to offer you one." He turned and retrieved another bottle of Yakult, before holding it out to his comrade. "Yakult?"

Katsura blinked, not accepting the bottle. "Sakamoto..." He said slowly. "You don't also happen to have some chocolate on you, do you?"

Sakamoto beamed. "As a matter of fact, I do!" He turned and presented multiple bars of chocolate to Katsura, placing them on the roof between them so the samurai could help himself.

"Sakamoto..."

"Yes Zura?"

"You're a dead man."

 **-0-**

Gintoki glared up towards the roof the two samurai were seated on from the shadows, standing with Takasugi.

"How about we save our fight for tomorrow?" Takasugi murmured, his voice dangerously low. "I'll kill you another time."

Gintoki cracked his knuckles. "That's fine by me."

 **R.I.P Sakamoto**

* * *

 **Before I say anything else; Happy birthday Katsura! *throws confetti around***

 **So yeah, I've decided to try a shot at doing some one-shots because I enjoy writing one-shots, and I'm too lazy to write an actual story. Basically, it'll be stuff revolving around these guys during the Joui War, and I'll maybe shove Kurokono Tasuke in here depending in what mood I'm in. I'm sorry that this first chapter was so short. D: I'll see how this goes anyway; if it gets a bit of attention then I think it will be worth continuing. If not, then, I dunno. xD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Tell anyone you got wet, and they'll give you a funny look**

 **-0-**

"Think fast Zura!"

Katsura didn't have time to register what had been said, or even turn around, before a water bomb exploded into the back of his neck. Said samurai gasped in surprise from the sudden and unexpected impact, and the feeling of water trickling down his back and seeping through his clothing. If he had had more of a warning, he might have had the time to throw a correction regarding his name over his shoulder, or even turn around and probably dodge the attack.

But no. He didn't have time to dodge, or even look at the person who had been so kind as to throw something at him, and get him wet. Scratch that, that sounds wrong; he didn't have time to look at the person who had caused both him and his clothing to get a little moist. But he didn't need to look at the person's face to know who it was-the annoying laugh that followed shortly after was a big enough hint.

"Ahha ha, ha!"

Katsura gritted his teeth in annoyance and instantly spun on his heel, whipping around and shooting a glare in Sakamoto's direction, who was currently being praised for his accuracy by a certain curly-haired samurai. Gintoki clasped his hands together in a respectful manner and bowed to Tatsuma.

"You are learning well, my student." He murmured.

Sakamoto mimicked his actions and bowed also. "Thank you, Sensei."

" _Oi! What the hell was that for?!"_ Katsura screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Tatsuma. It had become common knowledge that Gintoki and Sakamoto were quite the troublemakers; partners in crime. Basically, the two idiots that pissed everyone off. It was risky to turn your back on the two or let your guard down when around them-that's what probably made them so dangerous in battle.

Sakamoto simply laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah ha ha, ha! Calm down Zura. I told you to think fast didn't I?"

" _How was I supposed to react quickly enough to dodge it?!"_ The long-haired samurai growled in response. _"And it's not Zura, it's Katsura!"_

Gintoki tilted his head to one side and folded his arms over his chest. "Oi oi, what's wrong with you? Is it that time of the month already?"

" _Do I look like a girl to you?"_

"Do you want an honest answer?"

Katsura clicked his tongue in annoyance and folded his arms stubbornly, looking away.

Takasugi, who was sitting at the base of a tree trunk in the shade nearby, allowed his eyes to float up from his book, and hover over to Gintoki, Sakamoto and Katsura. A pair of green eyes landed specifically on Gintoki, and said samurai returned the look, pulling a face at Shinsuke and placing his hands on his hips.

"What are you looking at shorty?" He called over, tossing a water balloon up and down in his hand. "Get back to reading your dirty fan fiction or you'll be next."

Takasugi furrowed his eyebrows in response, clicking his tongue in distaste. "If I wanted to look at something dirty, I'd just look at you." He retorted swiftly. "And if you hadn't noticed, it's a book about war." He added, turning his attention away from his comrade and turning a page. "Not that you'd care anyway-you're too ignorant to appreciate literature."

"Tsh," Gintoki lifted his head a little, almost as though Takasugi was something dirty he didn't want to touch. It was also common knowledge that Takasugi and Gintoki weren't the best of friends. They were always fighting about something, and it was normally just a look or a comment that sparked their quarrelling. Now that Gintoki was armed with a weapon, things would escalate quickly.

The samurai was about to open his mouth to growl a retort, but stopped suddenly upon feeling something crash into the back of his head. He hissed in surprise as he felt water, ice cold, trickling down the back of his neck. Then, as if on cue;

"Ah ha ha, ha!"

Gintoki whipped around. _"What the hell?!"_ He growled, glaring harshly in Sakamoto's direction. " _I'm your Sensei!"_

The White Demon had turned around just in time to see his former student bowing to Katsura.

"Your aim is improving, Sakamoto-kun," Katsura complemented, placing a hand on Tatsuma's shoulder. Gintoki stood and watched the two, silently debating where to aim his shot.

Sakamoto, at this point, looked like a child who had just been rewarded with a gold star for getting full marks on a spelling test. "Thank you, Sensei."

Gintoki had his weapon aimed. He brought his arm back, steadily preparing his shot. After securing his target, he threw the water bomb in Sakamoto's direction. It shot through the air at amazing speed, before exploding into Sakamoto's lower area, hitting him right in the b***s.

Sakamoto let out a cry of pain, the attack catching him off guard. He fell to his knees dramatically, before rolling onto his back, all the while making weird choking noises. Katsura gasped and rushed to the fallen samurai's side.

"Sakamoto-kun!" He exclaimed, peering down at his student with genuine worry written all over his face.

Sakamoto turned his head and looked up at his dear teacher with eyes that were half open. He coughed weakly, and the choking noises returned. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a sad smile, full of regret. "I'm sorry...Sensei..." He murmured softly, gazing up at Katsura with a gaze full of grief.

Katsura's eyes widened and he placed his hands on Sakamoto's shoulders. "Sakamoto-kun...It's okay!" He said, looking down at him and giving him a weak smile. "If you don't die, you can have my share of rice tonight!"

"Hmph..." Sakamoto's eyes closed, his smile still evident. "We're not having rice tonight..." He breathed, heaving one last painful sigh, and lying still.

Katsura gritted his teeth, lowering his head. "No..." He murmured softly. The man tried shaking his student by the shoulders a few times, but still, he didn't move. " _S...Sakamoto-kun...!_ " He wailed loudly, throwing his head back in distress.

Gintoki removed his finger from his nose, and Takasugi briefly looked up from his book.

Katsura was silent for a few moments. He slowly rose to his feet, his head lowered. The samurai balled his hands into fists at his side, and slowly, very slowly, turned his head. He gave Gintoki the deadliest glare he could offer, his eyes promising a slow and painful death.

"You, samurai with the silver hair..." he murmured lowly. "This is personal now."

Gintoki scratched the nape of his neck. "It really isn't." He replied casually.

"It is."

"It's not."

"Tsh," Katsura scowled. " _You just ruined the moment!"_

 _"_ It was already ruined, idiot." Gintoki responded, not looking particularly impressed. He turned his attention over to Sakamoto for a moment, an unmoving body on the floor. "Well, proves just how strong his b***s are." He commented, lazily quirking an eyebrow.

"Idiot janai, Katsura da!"

Sakamoto suddenly sat up, and looked up at Katsura. "Zura, can I still have your rice tonight?"

Katsura turned his head and gave Sakamoto a deadpan look.

Gintoki once again removed his finger from his nose.

Takasugi muttered something about being 'surrounded by idiots.'

" _I thought you said we weren't having rice tonight!_ " Katsura exclaimed, turning his head and glaring down at Sakamoto, who was oblivious to the wet patch steadily forming on his clothing.

Sakamoto made a move to get to his feet, but before he could pick himself from the floor, Gintoki shoved him back down with his foot. "Oi oi, you're a bit ambitious aren't you, thinking you can get back up?" He scowled down at his former student.

Sakamoto blinked up at Gintoki. "Ma, Gintoki. I thought we were a team, no?"

Gintoki eyed him with an unfriendly gaze. "Stay down there where you belong." He muttered darkly.

Katsura rolled his eyes. He gave his two comrades one last look before he turned and made his way over to where Takasugi was sitting, reading his book.

Gintoki and Sakamoto shared a look for a moment, before their eyes flickered to the pile of water bombs nearby.

"Last man standing wins." Gintoki said, folding his arms.

"You're on Kintoki!"

 **-0-**

Katsura sighed in annoyance, tugging at his drenched clothing. The long-haired male left a trail of droplets behind him as he trudged weakly beside Gintoki and Sakamoto, who were equally wet.

"How did you two manage to drag me into this..." He muttered weakly.

Gintoki scratched the back of his head. "I'm just a people person." He replied, his speech slow and slurred.

Sakamoto didn't even have the energy to muster up one of his annoying laughs. He simply stayed quiet, a huge wet patch embellishing the lower region of his clothing, courtesy of Gintoki.

As the three samurai neared camp, Takasugi could be seen emerging from the small temple that was currently serving as their base. Upon noticing them, he stopped walking and gave them a deadpan look, not looking particularly impressed.

"We're having rice tonight."

* * *

 **I really don't know what I'm doing with my life. xD**

 **Thank you for all the reviews; I didn't expect to get so many :D I think I'm going to continue this one-shot thing, considering how fun the chapters are to write, and how much attention the first chapter got. *rolls about on the floor***

 **Welp, I have nothing else to say. *runs away***


	3. Chapter 3

**That junk called comrades that's inside, is a glistening treasure ya know.**

 **-0-**

"Alright everyone. Lights out, mouths shut!"

Light murmuring and shuffling could be heard, which was followed by the lights flickering off, before the room was plunged into darkness. Messy futons and what could be called mats were scattered among the floor, disorganized and arranged lazily. Soldiers crawled to their own little spot in the rather crowded room, flopping onto either their futon, which only the injured were lucky enough to have, or their mat; most of which were stained with blood, and was more of a messy arrangement of fabric on the floor.

It was stuffy. Wherever you settled, you could always feel someone's back brushing against you, or the odd foot if you were unfortunate enough. There were no complaints, though. A place to sleep was all that the rebels needed and were happy with. They were happy to be alive, above anything. They were still recovering from their collision with the opposing army. It had hit them hard; and as the war continued to rage the on, more soldiers fell, and the number of casualties increased. When you looked at it as a whole, it wasn't the best situation to be stuck in the middle of.

When the war began, you'd hear the occasional _'look on the bright side'_

The thing was, there was no bright side to look on anymore. Most of the soldiers couldn't see the bright side, even if they looked.

They were too blind with grief.

It had been quite the miserable evening for the Joui. And so, as the patriots were ordered to sleep, there were no childish protests. Katsura didn't object with regards to stopping a rather heated game of UNO which had yet to be finished, which definitely wasn't like him at all. Not to mention that Sakamoto hadn't laughed for the past few hours, which only proved how serious things were. It was a shame really-a good laugh always brightened the mood. However, it was rather unfortunate that when Sakamoto laughed, he didn't sound like he was laughing. He sounded like a constipated sheep. So, it was kind of a good thing that Tatsuma had his mouth shut for once, in a way.

Gintoki lazily lifted his head and blinked in the darkness, allowing his half lidded eyes, which were currently in the middle of adjusting to the dark, to scan the room. He was fortunate enough to be sleeping on a futon, and had been sleeping on said futon for a few hours now, because of 'doctor's orders'. This of course, just meant that Katsura had nagged at him to get some rest because he had been pretty heavily injured. His comrade had also made someone watch him so he didn't escape from the room- and Gintoki had to admit, the thought of someone watching him while he slept was pretty freaky.

It couldn't be helped. The Joui didn't really have any particular doctor, and Katsura, out of all the other soldiers, was most suited for the role.

He had treated Gintoki's wounds, and even made sure that he was tucked in properly. Turned out that the long-haired samurai had a 'mother mode' to him which was triggered by wounds and messy sheets.

At this point, all Gintoki could see were black blobs huddled together on the floor around him. That was, until, his eyes adjusted. Now he could briefly make out Sakamoto's curly hair from across the room, and Katsura's eyes.

Katsura's eyes which were open, despite the fact that he was snoring.

Not everyone knew that Katsura had a knack for sleeping with his eyes open, and when people first saw it, they were rather disturbed; which was completely understandable, considering that he slept with thememwide /emopen. It wouldn't be as weird to look at if they were just open. But they weren't just 'open'. They were abnormally wide. So wide, that if Katsura was awake, his expression would suggest that he'd just seen somebody naked.

Gintoki stared at Katsura's sleeping face for a few moments. He sighed through his nose before letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

The samurai couldn't fall asleep. He rolled onto his back and drew in a long breath, huffing loudly like a restless child.

It was impossible to tell who would win the war. The Amanto had an overwhelming technology advantage which put the samurai on a completely different level, and they had space-ships, and foreign weaponry that they had never seen before. The aliens towered over them, often doubling them in size, and even without their weapons, they were dangerously strong.

But the samurai had their swords, and their spirit. They had a code.

What the Amanto didn't have was a sense of comradeship or companionship. They had no code to follow, or laws to live by.

The only thing that the invaders wanted to do was kill.

The ever-lasting battle seemed to stretch on forever.

Rolling back onto his side, Gintoki carefully pushed himself up from the futon, biting his lip to hold back the groan that was bubbling in the back of his throat. He grunted from the effort, his arms trembling slightly from the weight of his injured form, weak and lacking the strength to even swing his sword. When he had successfully risen from the floor he struggled to his feet, swaying a little, dangerously close to falling on top of the sleeping Katsura nearby.

As he looked around the room, he noticed that everyone was fast asleep. They were all tired, and almost everyone had some sort of injury.

Gintoki regained his balance, blinking, and slowly began picking his way through the multiple huddled figures on the floor, nearly stepping on a hand and barely missing a face as he did so. When he had finally managed to avoid crushing anyone on his treacherous journey to the door, he slipped outside.

The cold night air left him breathless for a second, the sudden change of temperature overwhelming. A clear night's sky hung overhead, adorned with stars and splashed a dark shade of black and blue. The silver-haired samurai began to trudge slowly away from the temple from which he had emerged from, easily shaking away thoughts of the cold, and actually finding it quite refreshing. He let it crawl along his bandaged chest, partially numbing the injury that tore across his torso, and he allowed the wind to tug gently at his hair.

The patriot turned a corner, not really sure where he was walking to. He just needed to be outside; to be able to breathe.

The night was still, blending unexpectedly well with a restless wind. The trees circling the base, guarding it, allowed their leaves to flow along with the will of the breeze. Each grass stalk beneath his feet was defined carefully by the misty glow that radiated from the full moon in the sky; silver.

However, upon spotting someone on the small stretch of grass nearby, Gintoki suddenly stopped. The figure, who he instantly recognized in the darkness as Takasugi, had his hands positioned behind his head, and his gaze directed towards the sky. The silver-haired samurai quirked a brow, before blinking and slowly walking over to the unsuspecting Shinsuke, despite his injuries and the struggle it brought, his footsteps surprisingly light. When he reached the grass, he grunted as he attempted to settle beside Takasugi, all the while remembering to keep his distance. But instead of sitting down, he clumsily fell backwards, abruptly flopping onto his back and letting out a loud 'Umph!'

"Tatata..." The man had a pained expression scribbled across his face, his brow furrowed deeply and the corner of his mouth tugging downwards.

Takasugi didn't even spare Gintoki a glance.

"I'm surprised you don't have your head wedged in a book." He commented, rubbing his arm and frowning, still recovering from his fall. He gave Shinsuke a quick look from the corner of his eye.

"I'm surprised you're not dead yet." Takasugi retorted swiftly, not even offering Gintoki a glance.

Gintoki simply clicked his tongue and allowed himself to relax on the grass, sighing through his nose. He was surprised that Takasugi didn't mind his presence, but he brushed the thought aside. Sometimes, part of him actually thought that Takasugi found him...tolerable. But that assumption was always dismissed when the name calling started, and their swords were drawn. They weren't the best of friends, but Gintoki had to admit, he didn't particularly dislike the idea of just lying there with him. For now, he would tolerate it.

Gintoki allowed his eyes to drift upwards and observe the sky, dominated by stars. The man blinked. He lifted up an arm and brought it up behind his head to use as a pillow, almost mimicking his comrade's pose.

"If Zura finds out you're out here," Takasugi murmured, removing a hand from behind his head and resting it on his chest. "He'll kill you." His eyes flashed a piercing green in the moonlight, the white glow adorning his hair and his blood stained uniform a serene shade of silver.

Gintoki scratched at the bandages wrapped around his chest, closing his eyes for a moment.

The next few moments were followed by silence.

"What are you doing out here anyway, Yakult-breath?"

"I like to have some time to think, bastard."

Gintoki blinked an eye open and glanced sideways at Takasugi.

From the moment that he had lay down beside him, Gintoki had noticed that Takasugi wasn't himself. From the way his posture stiffened every so often, and the way that his feet twitched or he moved his legs around, it made it quite obvious that he was frustrated about something; thinking about something. For some reason, Shinsuke never seemed to accept defeat. It always wound him up whenever something went wrong, and the only thing that they got out of it was injury.

Takasugi had always been a quiet one. When they were younger-when they weren't at each other's throats-Shinsuke was quite distant, and didn't socialize with other children much. He liked to keep to himself. Or rather, when he was irritated, he would find somewhere quiet to cool down by himself. He would always wander off on his own, left alone with his thoughts. He was a man who lived in the past, constantly dwelling on events that had passed, and letting it get to him.

That was why he was like a monster in battle.

It was also why he could be such a d*** at times.

Takasugi hadn't changed at all.

"Tch, anyway..." Takasugi took the liberty of continuing when he didn't receive a reply. "...I could ask you the same question." The man turned his head and gave Gintoki a look through a pair of narrowed green eyes. "What are you doing ou-"

"What are you doing out here, Gintoki?"

Both patriots flinched a little upon hearing a new voice. Gintoki quirked an eyebrow, immediately recognising it, and stuck a finger in his ear.

Katsura blinked and positioned himself next to Gintoki on the grass, falling back onto the ground next to his comrade with a sigh, letting out a soft grunt as he did so.

Katsura could be scary at times. When someone was injured, he would take it into his own hands to make sure that they didn't injure themselves further. Hence why he had stalked Gintoki upon noticing his absence.

"Zura," Gintoki removed his finger from his ear, inspecting it in the moonlight and wiping whatever was on it on the grass. "Since when did you become a ninja?" he turned his head to look at the man next to him.

"Ninja janai, Katsura da," Katsura replied, resting his hands behind his head. Surprisingly, the long-haired samurai didn't mention anything about Gintoki not being allowed outside. He simply copied his friends and looked up at the sky.

Katsura was a man of patience. Unlike Takasugi, who was angered by their recent loss and was itching to jump back into battle, he had accepted the fact that they had failed, and instead sought to setting his mind to the things right in front of him. Most of the medical attention had been provided by him, despite the fact that he had a few injuries of his own; he put other people before himself, whatever kind of emotions were building up inside.

He was the opposite of Takasugi. He wasn't a retarded wreck of emotions.

Katsura was the same old idiot that always got pissed when called by his nickname, always slurring back the same response in his defence.

Another silence followed.

"Hey...That cluster of stars over there looks like a d***." Gintoki raised a hand and pointed to what looked like some sort of constellation in the sky.

Katsura hummed an agreement, nodding his head slowly as he noticed what Gintoki was pointing at. He held his chin for a moment in deep thought. "Oh yeah," He murmured. "It does."

"Tch, disgusting."

"Alright, Takasugi. We didn't ask for your life story."

Shinsuke growled his annoyance. "Tsk, get lost perm-face."

"Oi, Zura. Do I have a perm on my face?" Gintoki turned to Katsura, ignoring Takasugi's threat that followed shortly after.

"I'll make sure your face is just as messed up as your hair in a minute." He grumbled under his breath.

"Zura janai, Katsura da." Katsura didn't look particularly impressed. "And you're not dragging me into this."

"We've already dragged you into this. There's no escaping now."

"Don't listen to that idiot, Zura."

" _Zura janai, Katsura da!_ "

"Gintoki put a finger to his chin and thought for a moment. "Oi...Do you think the Amanto have d***s?"

"What."

"Hm..." At this point, Katsura and Gintoki were both holding their chins. "I don't know. Hey, why don't we ask one next time we see one?"

Gintoki nodded his agreement.

Takasugi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So stupid..." He muttered to himself.

"We know you are, Takasugi."

"Want me to kill you, bastard?"

"Well, you know what they say. Pick on someone your own size."

Takasugi scoffed lightly and cracked his knuckles

Katsura was still thinking about whether or not Amanto had d***s.

"And Gintoki was preparing to beat the absolute s*** out of Takasugi.

 **-0-**

Comrades. No matter how stupid or idiotic they are...

They're a glistening treasure ya know.

* * *

 ***suddenly crawls in after not updating for ages***

 **Phew,** **this one-shot thing took longer to write than it should have. I'm such a lazy person. *drags hand slowly down face* But, it is quite long compared to the others, so that makes everything fine :D**

 **It really doesn't but y'know, there's a smiley face so if that doesn't make things better, then I don't know what will. On another note, I didn't include Sakamoto in this chapter. I think I just wanted to write something with these three idiots in. But don't worry, the laughing idiot will return.**

 **Have a pepsi [~]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Being a wig is nothing to be ashamed of**

 **-0-**

It was possible that Katsura had the longest hair among all of the Jouishishi patriots. Long, black silky hair which the man took great pride in and tried his uttermost best to keep tidy and clean. Sometimes he wore it down, sometimes he tied it in a loose ponytail. He tried to wash it as much as he could, and from previous experiences he had discovered that blood, particularly Amanto blood, was a real pain in the ass to get from his hair and often left it smelling of crap. On windy days, he proved to be quite the sight. His hair would go everywhere. In his eyes, in his face, in other people's faces, and even in Sakamoto's mouth because the damn idiot always had it open.

Katsura Kotarou had _lots_ of hair.

It was a light restless evening when he was told that two of his comrades had been badly injured.

When he walked into the small temple room that served as their makeshift infirmary, he was able to see two familiar figures positioned on the floor on mats. To say the least, he wasn't surprised at all to see who they were. As he carefully made his way across the room, taking care as to not step on any other injured patriots, his footsteps alerted Takasugi of his presence and one of his eyes flickered open. Gintoki however, didn't move. The silver-haired solider had both eyes closed and was taking full advantage of the situation, catching up on some sleep. Sakamoto greeted him with a small wave and looked up at him from where he was sitting beside Gintoki's mat on the floor.

Takasugi and Gintoki had once again managed to find a way to get absolutely battered in the space of a day.

Takasugi was lacking his signature coat and his grey vest, his bare top half covered in bandages stained with blood. Two sharp green pupils greeted Katsura as he looked down at him. Though they were open, it was evident that the man wasn't yet fully awake. His eyes were dull, and the slow, heavy breaths he took were weighed down with fatigue and blood loss. Dried blood coated his tanned complexion, drops of crusty liquid plastered to his neck and his collarbone. Parts of his trousers had been ripped, and one of his hands was bandaged, the fingerless gloves he usually donned tossed aside on the floor and in tatters.

This is what Takasugi got for refusing to wear chest armour. Katsura remembered lecturing him about how it put his life in danger, only to be met with the response of _'It will only weigh me down. My life is in more danger if I can't move quick enough, Zura. I'll be careful. While you're getting a drink, chuck me a Yakult.'_

 _Careful my ass_ Katsura thought bitterly. He bit his lip at the sight of the wounded Takasugi infront of him, angry at himself that he didn't push Takasugi more to wear armour. _And when did this happen?_ He clenched a fist. _Why wasn't I there to protect them?_

The man turned his attention to Gintoki. The Shiroyasha had been stripped of his demonic appearance. His white haori jacket, on the floor beside his mat, was white no more. The man's chest had been bandaged too, and the material wrapped around his torso had been dyed a dark shade of crimson. His breaths were slow; almost too slow. Katsura had to stare at him for a while to convince himself that his friend was actually breathing. The slight rise and fall of his chest was reassuring, though also worrying at the same time.

It was scary. Scary how war could turn even the strongest of soldiers into...this.

For Katsura, it was certainly overwhelming. He'd seen Gintoki and Takasugi injured before, but it was mostly just them returning to camp with a few cuts and bruises.

The two samurai at his feet looked _broken_.

"Zura."

It was Sakamoto.

Katsura blinked and turned to face Tatsuma, his eyes devoid of emotion.

His comrade patted the space next to him on the floor. He didn't laugh. God help them all, he didn't even smile. "Come sit."

And that was all that it took for Katsura to wordlessly join Sakamoto on the floor beside Gintoki's mat.

They sat in silence. Takasugi had closed his eyes and Gintoki continued to breathe quietly. Katsura lowered his gaze, unable to look at his two friends without guilt scratching at his gut.

Sakamoto gazed at the two.

"They were asking for you." He said simply.

Katsura's head flickered up and he blinked at Sakamoto. The man continued to speak.

"When they woke up and you weren't here, they wouldn't stop asking about you." Tatsuma met Katsura's eyes and the man smiled as he continued. "Is Zura okay? Where's Zura? Get Zura, bring him here."

Katsura looked back towards Takasugi and Gintoki, before looking down at the floor and playing with his fingers. "S'not Zura, it's Katsura."

Sakamoto chuckled softly. "I'll tell you Zura, ya got some good pals here."

Katsura bit his lip and refused to look up.

"...and I wasn't there to protect them."

Sakamoto's gaze softened. The man softly punched the long-haired samurai's arm, trying to reassure him. Even so, Katsura still didn't look up.

"You can't be everywhere at once, Zura."

Katsura's patrol had been elsewhere defending the base when the group Takasugi and Gintoki were in had been ordered to patrol the woods. It was only when he returned to base that he was informed that the enemy had also been at the woods at the time, and had outnumbered the rebels greatly. When he returned to camp he had been starving, but now he couldn't even remember what it felt like to be hungry. He realized that he couldn't and wouldn't always be there to protect his friends, and that angered him to no end. He trusted their skills, but neither Takasugi nor Gintoki were immortal.

The overwhelming and heavy reality was that they faced the danger of dying everyday.

But when the soldiers returned from fighting in the evening, they idly chatted of what they were having for supper and joked over the fire about things that didn't even matter. Talking and dreaming about the future was a luxury they no longer had access to because the future was only a possibility. Soldiers gathered around burning logs and poured bottles of sake, smiling and laughing about the present. They could confidently talk about that, because the present, and everyone and everything else there, was not going anywhere in that point in time.

This was something that Katsura had discovered over time. And from time to time, they were allowed to fantasize about the future and all the possibilities that waited when, _if,_ they soldiered through this war.

Katsura was just grateful that his comrades would live to share another bottle of alcohol around the fire.

Sakamoto was right, he couldn't be everywhere at once. And that was something that he just had to accept.

"They'll be okay, won't they?" He finally looked up.

Sakamoto grinned stupidly.

Katsura relaxed.

"I'll get you a drink, Zura." Sakamoto rose to his feet. "How does Yakult sound?"

"Takasugi's Yakult...?"

"He won't mind."

"I'm okay thanks. I value my life."

Sakamoto had already begun to make his way across the room.

"Just make sure he doesn't wake up, eh Zura?" His reply was thrown lazily over his shoulder and he was out of the door before Katsura could shout a response.

" _It's not Zura, it's Katsura!"_ Katsura sighed irritably and rubbed his face with his hand. He sat in silence for a few minutes, and his head flickered up abruptly when he felt something tug at his hair.

"Oi oi...some of us are tryin' to sleep here, bastards..." Katsura looked down at Gintoki who was wide awake. The man was sitting up on his mat and his bloody hands were trying to plait Katsura's hair. Katsura blinked.

"You're not supposed to be awake!" He fretted, reaching out to ease Gintoki back onto his back, trying to push him down by his shoulders. Gintoki remained where he was and before Katsura could wrestle him back onto the futon, he felt someone else tug at the other side of his hair.

"Calm it, Zura." Katsura spun around to face a sleepy Takasugi who was also plaiting his hair. And it was then that Katsura realized that he couldn't see another injured soldier next to Gintoki's mat; both of them were sitting either side of him, plaiting his hair like school girls.

"Since we already look fucked up..." Gintoki motioned to his bloody clothing and the cuts that ran up his arms. "...we might aswell drag you down with us, ne Takasugi?"

Takasugi smirked sharply despite looking so worn out, and his eyes shone. "Don't worry, Zura." he murmured. "We'll make you look _great._ "

Katsura was speechless for a second, and when he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out. He looked at Gintoki, then blinked at Takasugi, watching their focused expressions and the way their fingers carefully handled his hair so they didn't tug too hard and hurt him. Gintoki's big hands looked out of place and his fingers fumbled, the man sticking his tongue out so he could concentrate. Takasugi's hands were gentle and he was more precise, working slowly and neatly. Katsura had to admit, he found that watching them was stupidly funny, and he didn't notice that he was smiling until Gintoki gave him a funny look.

Katsura found the whole thing surprisingly soothing. Whether it was down to the feeling of people plaiting his hair, or whether it was the fact that his friends were okay, he didn't know. Either way he didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

Gintoki blinked up at Katsura. "What's with the retarded expression, Zura? You just pissed yourself?"

Takasugi scoffed as he continued to plait Katsura's hair. "It's called smiling, perm-breath. Is he not allowed to smile without being accused of pissing himself?"

"Ooh, Takasugi-kun is awfully protective of Zura today~"

Katsura smiled even more, and his smile turned into a chuckle. He didn't really know why he was laughing, but it felt really good to just _laugh_ and to _smile._

Takasugi scowled at Gintoki. "Shut the f-"

"Ooh! This looks fun! Mind if I join?"

Sakamoto wandered over to the three with four bottles of Yakult in his hands, and plopped down next to Takasugi. Takasugi stopped to glare at him when he saw the bottles but said nothing, allowing Sakamoto to hand out the drinks among them. Sakamoto downed his drink and placed the bottle aside, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and grinning stupidly. He picked out three locks of Katsura's hair and began to mimic Gintoki and Takasugi.

"Are we giving Zura a makeover?

"Something like that." Gintoki finished the hair he was plaiting and picked out three more locks to do another one. He stopped briefly to take a few gulps of Yakult, purposely looking in Takasugi's direction as he did so. Takasugi pulled a face.

Katsura turned around to blink at Sakamoto who looked almost as funny as Gintoki did when he tried to concentrate. His fingers weren't designed to handle delicate things; his hands were meant to wield blades and handle the wheel of a ship.

Takasugi and Gintoki looked oddly natural plaiting his hair. That was probably down to the fact that they had done it as kids. Even so it must have looked really odd; three men who only earlier that morning would have been slaughtering aliens, were drinking Yakult and plaiting hair.

Katsura suddenly winced when he felt someone tug too hard.

"Haha, whoops. Sorry Zura." It was Tatsuma.

"You're doing it all wrong," It was Takasugi who spoke next. "You need to be more gentle."

"That's what she said." Gintoki butted in with a dirty joke, and Takasugi scoffed his disgust while Sakamoto laughed and tugged at Katsura's hair again.

Katsura grunted.

Gintoki finished plaiting and budged closer to Sakamoto. "C'mere retard..." he picked out three more locks of Katsura's hair and began to demonstrate how to plait it. "You put this one over this one, see? And when you do it, you don't pull it too hard..." Gintoki began to slowly plait while Sakamoto watched. "...Otherwise his wig will fall off, ya know?"

"Haha, I get ya Kintoki! Also, I didn't know you wore a wig, Zura."

Katsura didn't look particularly impressed. "I don't wear I wig!"

Gintoki shuffled back to his own spot. "Ah, Tatsuma. I got mixed up for a moment there. Zura _is_ a wig."

"Haha, I see what you did there!"

"Also it's Gintoki, you little shit-stain. Call me that again and I'll have to use the wig to clean up the blood I'm going to spill."

"It's not wig, it's _Katsura!"_ Katsura waved his hands about dramatically. "And no one is going to mistreat wigs!"

Gintoki leaned closer to Sakamoto. "See, Tatsuma. That's it right there. He's defending his own kind. He must be one of them!"

Takasugi suddenly stopped what he was doing.

"What the absolute _fuck_ are you all on about?"

Katsura sighed. "They're just being idiots..." He muttered.

"We're not going to judge you because of what you are, Zura." Gintoki had completely lost interest in plaiting Katsura's hair and had decided that his finger would be better off up his nose. "I mean, Takasugi's obviously gay but we treat him like we treat everyone else."

Takasugi scoffed. "So you treat everyone else like shit? Is that what you're saying?"

"I like how you didn't deny being gay."

Takasugi reached over to try and hit Gintoki round the head. " _I'm not gay you idiot!"_

 _"And I'm not a wig!"_

"Hey, who's up for a game of cards?"

" _SHUT UP TATSUMA."  
_

Gintoki had pulled his finger from his nose and had returned to lazily plaiting Katsura's hair. As soon as he did this, Katsura stiffened.

"Gintoki, you've just been picking your nose, haven't you?"

"...No."

"He's lying, Zura." Takasugi commented disgustedly. "His nose is bleeding."

Gintoki pressed a finger to his nose and blinked down at the blood on his hand. "It's not blood." He replied simply, looking up at Takasugi.

"If it's not blood, what is it then?" Takasugi dead-panned.

"It's the fiery liquid of my soul."

The room went silent. Takasugi wasn't sure what to say, so for a few moments he didn't say anything.

"...Just don't let him touch you Zura."

"Okay." Katsura nodded his head firmly and shuffled away from Gintoki.

" _Oi?! Why are you listening to the midget?!"_ Gintoki screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Takasugi. " _You can never trust short people, y'know!"_

"He doesn't want your dirty soul in his hair, idiot!"

 _"Who's soul are you calling dirty, bastard?!"_

"Haha, calm down Kinkto-"

" _SHUT UP TATSUMA."_

Katsura shook his head. For some strange reason, he allowed Gintoki to resume in plaiting his hair. However, it didn't last for long. After a few minutes he felt a heavy weight on his shoulder and noticed that Gintoki had fallen asleep on him. The man had his face smushed against his shoulder and was snoring loudly. Takasugi wasn't far behind him either; his head was bobbing up and down as he tried to stay awake and his eyes were half open.

Sakamoto thought that this was hilarious and Katsura had to shove a hand over his mouth so his irritating laugh wouldn't wake both of them up.

Tatsuma helped Katsura ease them both back onto their futons and Katsura was free to drink his bottle of Yakult.

"I'm going to have so many knots in my hair in the morning, aren't I?" He murmured to Sakamoto when he had finished his drink.

Sakamoto simply grinned.

Katsura smiled.

 **-0-**

Katsura Kotarou had _lots_ of hair.

His friends liked to plait it.

And he _let_ them.

* * *

 **Yay! I actually did something with my life and updated! I just want to say that the reason for the late update is down to pure laziness and the fact that I had absolutely no ideas regarding what to write. Sorry for taking so long. I'm a really lazy person. I think what motivated me to actually finish this chapter was the fact that over the past few weeks people have been favouriting and following the story :)**

 **For all you peeps out there who don't already know what 'zura' means in Japanese, it literally means 'wig'. Hence the wig jokes.**

 **Also, I'd like to thank** **RavenousYetMysterious for the inspiration for this chapter. You've been so friendly and helpful; the good ideas just don't stop coming! Thanks :)**

 **Also thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, followed or whatnot; it means a lot and reviews motivate me a lot!**

 **Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Author's note

**Just to clarify, this is** ** _not_** **a chapter;** ** _sorry!_**

 **I am planning to continue this little story thing, and I do have a chapter that I'm currently working on. I haven't had the time or the motivation to update in a while, and I apologise for my laziness! I've noticed that a lot of people have been adding the story to their favourites and I think that's really motivated me to actually do something, so I just wanted to add this little note to the story to let you guys know that I haven't ditched his fan fiction and you can expect to see another chapter soon ^^**

 **I think it would be nice to update with the arrival of the new season of Gintama too (yayyy!)**

 **-Once again, I'm sorry for being a lazy person! D:**


End file.
